


bright like the sound of your voice

by wrabbit



Category: Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: shkinkmeme, Established Relationship, Fluff, Formerly Anonymous, M/M, Prompt Fic, Teasing, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-03
Updated: 2010-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrabbit/pseuds/wrabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't even that it was off limits, just that Holmes had incredible reflexes and intuition and Watson was likely to find himself otherwise distracted the moment Holmes saw a mischievous thought cross his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bright like the sound of your voice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this shkinkmeme prompt: "I NEED a fic where Watson randomly tickles Holmes during sex, because he loves to hear both of Holmes happiest noises: laughter, and the passionate moans he makes whilst they make love."

It wasn't even that it was off limits, just that Holmes had incredible reflexes and intuition and Watson was likely to find himself otherwise distracted the moment Holmes saw a mischievous thought cross his mind. Not here, though, with Holmes pliant and prone beneath him, both of them turned to the side so that Watson could brace himself on the mattress with his good knee. Holmes had one leg hooked over his opposite hip, opening himself up utterly and leaving a long line from perfect back to knee for Watson to worship while he rocked them both into slow ecstasy.

Sometimes Watson craved to hear him cry out and lose that awesome control utterly when he let himself be taken, but this was something else he couldn't get enough of- deep breaths and barely there moans as Watson kept him wanting more, tiny needy noises when Watson caressed again and again the long line of his side to his thigh without any sign of an interest in his cock.

Holmes braced himself with his head and forearms on a crumpled pillow and Watson hitched his thigh higher on his hip, rocking into him as deeply as possible in their position. Holmes's eyelids barely fluttered.

"Are you still with me," he asked, distracted by the way Holmes clenched around his cock when stroked the defined groove along the edge of his pectoral muscle.

Holmes smiled briefly in response without opening his eyes.

"Oh, you're not that far gone. You can speak I'm sure," Watson said. He pressed his chest to Holmes's spine to kiss the center of his curving back. Holmes moaned quietly at the change in position and Watson rocked into him steadily, holding his hip in place to keep them from sliding until he could hear the small noises Holmes was muffling into the pillow.

"Touch me, Watson, please," Holmes said with frustration when he sat up again to resume his slow petting of Holmes's back and side and even slower penetration.

"There you are then, but I am touching you," Watson murmured, pleased that he had finally won some words out of him.

"You're tickling and teasing me horribly," Holmes groaned. He fisted his fingers in the abused pillow and nudged his hips up against Watson's cock.

Watson grinned. "If I wanted to tickle you I would," he said, and maybe he had been pondering it, just a little. He ran his nails down the sensitive edge of Holmes's back and Holmes smothered a choked off sound into the pillow.

"Stop that," Watson said. He pressed his lips to Holmes's shoulder. "I want to hear you."

"You hear me all the time," Holmes said, his voice strained. "Constantly, even."

"I rather like it," Watson said. "Or one would think so, after all these years."

He scratched over the crook of Holmes's waist and down to the curve of stomach with just his fingertips. "You are sometimes quite exceedingly vocal, I'll give you that," he added.

Holmes whined and bit the pillow, stretching as much as possible to get away from the ticklish teasing. Watson's amused grin was cut off into a moan as Holmes involuntarily squeezed around his cock.

"Come on," Watson whispered. He trailed his fingernails through the tuft of dark hair under Holmes's arm and took a meandering path down the long plane of his side. Holmes panted, his eyes glazed over in concentration, and Watson nuzzled his spine, waiting him out. He was able to see from up close how Holmes's muscles shivered and trembled as his fingertips reached the curve of his ribcage. Watson bit his back delightedly and played his fingers on the spot with knowing precision as Holmes was wont to play the violin.

Holmes pulled the pillow over his head as a smile cracked and Watson stole it away to better hear the noises he was coaxing out of him. He probed an obviously sensitive spot between his floating ribs curiously, absolutely fascinated by Holmes's bursts of bright laughter. Holmes gripped his own hair with one hand adorably and braced his other against the wall as Watson leaned back to thrust into him, his eyes squeezed shut and leaving himself absolutely deliciously vulnerable.

Watson laughed along with him, his own sudden desire overriding his intent to tease them both, and he laid himself along Holmes's back to best press against his prostate with each thrust as he tickled him with his free hand. Holmes's breathless laughter was cut off by a moan as Watson reached for his cock, and he pushed his hips up to meet Watson's short thrusts.

"Watson, please!" He gasped for air as Watson stroked him in time with his thrusts, giving him both at once. Watson could feel his own completion building in his stomach, so so close, but something was missing.

Holmes cried out when Watson's hand slipped off his cock. Watson kissed his back soothingly at Holmes's small put-out noises, and slotted his fingers into the soft spots between his ribs. Holmes burst into laughter at the first touch, loud and as gloriously untempered as ever. The bubble of warmth building in Watson's belly burst suddenly, flooding his body with heat and leaving him quite unaware of anything but Sherlock's salty skin and his own cock deep inside him. He thrust helplessly twice, three times, gasping into Holmes's shoulderblade.

Holmes squirmed uncomfortably seconds later, still breathing heavily into the bed. He huffed impatiently as Watson pulled out slowly and nudged him to lie on his back in the center of the bed, taking hold of him once more.

"Don't you _dare_," Holmes gasped as Watson's unoccupied hand strayed to rest lightly on his waist, thrusting into his fist. Watson smirked and rather thought he might dare but Holmes was already pulsing in his firm grip, hands fisted in the sheets, arching beautifully.


End file.
